


Ardor

by AriesOnMars



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Angst, Blood, Gen, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 23:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3228383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriesOnMars/pseuds/AriesOnMars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the midst of battle Ezra is faced with a new powerful threat and he finds a familiar face from his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ardor

Ezra had imagined it a dozen times. He had tried not to think of it, out of shame and out of knowing what revenge may have done to him, but the thought flickered in his mind now and then of the Pau'an who haunted his nightmares and how he might meet his end. Ezra had imagined something like this when he had been feeling particularly vindictive, but with a few changes. In his mind the fight had been easier and he had wounds in picturesque locations. He hadn't been so tired, emotionally and physically, and  he hadn't been nearly severing the Inquisitor's neck simply because he was having trouble holding his lightsaber up. When he played with the thought the battle had just been one fight, perhaps long, but it wasn't nearly a week of being run ragged, separated from the others, finding them again, isolated once more, and repeating the process through woodland, marshes, and into an old and abandoned shipping yard. He had never thought before that when he would be in this moment hot, angry tears would be dripping down his face.

 

"Do it, then," that horrid, cold voice growled from beneath Ezra. The Padawan hadn't thought of that, either. He had always thought the Inquisitor would ask for mercy--or, at least, Ezra had always wanted him to.

 

Ezra wasn't the only one beaten and tired. The Inquisitor, a creature that had seemed to be made solely out of the desire for destruction, looked more like a true sentient species than the Padawan had ever seen him. Cruel gold and black eyes were partially closed, his face was bruised with rough, dark splotches, and from his mouth there was a smear of indigo. He had wiped away a trickle of blood at some point, and when he grinned Ezra could see where it had come from. One of the Pau'an's sharp teeth had been knocked out and he was bleeding into his own mouth.

 

"Are you afraid to spill blood?"

 

"Not yours," Ezra snarled as he gripped his lightsaber harder. He could do this. One more swing. He pulled back to do just that. The Inquisitor watched him, still smiling, as if he was sure Ezra would never do it. He was wrong, Ezra would prove that to him.

 

A power that felt like it had the size and strength of the Ghost hit him square in the back. Ezra was hurtled away from his would-have-been victim, clinging to his lightsaber for dear life, and tumbling painfully until a wall stopped him. He pulled himself up slowly and for a moment Ezra was worried that his own saber had sliced through his arm from the pain in it. It fortunately hadn't. Unfortunately there was a large shard of twisted metal imbedded into his arm. He touched it and whimpered, he wouldn't be able to pull it out, so he just shifted his lightsaber in his other hand.

 

"Master," the Inquisitor's voice called out, almost happy, and Ezra felt his blood run cold.

 

He looked up to the Inquisitor, and then beyond him. There was a lone figure, draped in black and making his--no, her--way toward them through the warehouse doors. She was in no hurry. There was no red blade and Ezra didn't see a lightsaber on her, but she was so bundled in her cloak and hood that she could have easily had one hidden on her. She raised a hand and her cloak parted, still no sign of a lightsaber, but in a moment Ezra was no longer looking for a weapon on her and instead scrambling out of the way to avoid being crushed by the Inquisitor. The power she had exerted on the Padawan she was more than willing to use on the other Sith.

 

The Inquisitor had been thrown against the wall harder than Ezra had, he was coughing roughly and had partially curled up, as if the impact had bruised his organs. Maybe it had.

 

"When... when you say 'Master'..." Ezra whispered, even as he asked he was scooting away from the Pau'an. Even if the Inquisitor was dead Ezra wouldn't want to be too close to him.

 

"Do not call me that while you lose to a _child_. You are a disgrace."

 

Ezra frowned as the voice rang out. It was a voice he knew, and it seemed like he wasn't the only one. The sounds of fighting outside the building seemed to die out some, either Stormtroopers recognizing the higher-ranking voice or one of the Ghost's crew or their allies knew her. Ezra watched her, the hood hid her face but he could tell by the way it moved when she finally looked from the Inquisitor to him. He expected to feel cold. Scared. Angry. Any one of the things he felt when he saw the Inquisitor.

 

"Ezra?" the hooded woman asked softly, and there was almost a touch of gentleness in her tone. He was unnerved and when the woman suddenly moved her hand again he flinched and moved his good arm up to protect his head. Nothing happened to him but from a good way away to his right there was a loud clang, and then a thud. He looked towards it and to the Inquisitor, he was lying at the far end of the compound now, an unmoving and crumpled lump. For a moment Ezra just stared, and the form shifted a little after  bit. Not dead, then. He looked back to the woman with a proper fear of her power now.

 

"Don't look at me like that, Ezra," she said softly. The feeling that it was a familiar tone made him twitch and he scrambled to stand up.

 

"Do I know you?" Ezra tried to sound brave as he said it, but it came out strained and worried. The woman moved her hand towards him, palm up like she was expecting the young man to give her something. Ezra looked from it to her face, and in the moment of confusion he wasn't able to grip his lightsaber hard enough to keep it from being wrenched from his grip. He tried to reach for it, and cried out when the metal in his arm painfully reminded him of its presence. Blood was leaking down his arm now and he gripped above the wound and squeezed in an attempt to stop the flow.

 

"You always were so good at building things," the Sith murmured as she touched along the metal, tapping gently at the blaster opening, then turning it over. The blue light as she activated it shone under her head, and for a moment Ezra saw a brief glimpse of her face that was hidden in the hood and shadows. It was only for a moment, and then the blue was once again gone.

 

 _That wasn't... No!_ Ezra narrowed his eyes and he managed to sound like he wasn't afraid when he yelled, "What? Have you been watching me?"

 

"No," her voice was soft, barely more than a sigh, and she came towards him. Ezra's first instinct was to shrink back, get away from her, but he didn't do it. He was going to stand his ground. Besides, he was too close to the wall, even if he did try to retreat he wouldn't get far. If she noticed his resolve she didn't acknowledge it, she simply came up to him and said gently, "I had thought you would have died when you were on your own for so long."

 

Ezra was going to scream at her, yell that she wasn't allowed to even mention that, but his voice died in his throat. The Sith was offering his weapon back, holding it out to him as if she had simply borrowed it from him for a second and not that she had disarmed him. He expected a trick, with good reason, but he was so tired. He was tired of running and fighting and hiding and he was tired of mind games. He took the bait for her to strike and reached for it.

 

She handed him the lightsaber and from this close, even hidden in shadow, Ezra could see her smile. It made his blood go cold again and, simultaneously, made his heart feel light. Something was wrong, something was so very wrong...

 

"Ezra!"

 

The call was followed by blaster fire at the woman. She jerked and looked towards the voice and attack, at Kanan suddenly bolted through the open area of the warehouse. He looked bad, his tunic was torn in a few places and singed in others, the armor over his arm was chipped at the edges with one of the plates missing. Kanan looked terrified and angry, and Ezra wanted to feel like Kanan would save him--and he did, partially, but it was torn with something else. Something he couldn't understand. At least, he couldn't until the Sith stood between him and Kanan. The smart move would have been to use the boy as a shield, because then Kanan would either shoot him or stop firing. What the woman did was hidden from Ezra behind the draping black cloak, but the blaster fire stopped and it was suddenly too quiet. Kanan's steps didn't echo in the old building anymore, he didn't cry out again.

 

"He's your Master, isn't he? Kanan Jarrus is training you to be a Jedi," the woman didn't have her gentle tones now, her voice was firm and cold, and Ezra jerked to get around her to see what was happening. Kanan was off the floor by about a foot, dangling from nothing. His protected arm was pinned against his side and he was still clinging to his blaster, but his other was up and near his neck to protect it. The woman's raised hand twitched and his arm was pressed closer to him by another inch. An already cracked plate on Kanan's armor split farther. He was being crushed.

 

"Don't..." Ezra said it with a faint whimper. This was why she didn't bother with a lightsaber he realized. She probably couldn't fight at all but she didn't need to. She never needed to...

 

"Once he's gone--" the woman said it low and Kanan squirmed as the pressure twisted around him harder. Ezra couldn't see him breathing anymore.

 

"Mom, _stop_!" Ezra cried out, and the broken-down warehouse echoed the words dully around them. From his end of the warehouse the Inquisitor moved slowly to watch them. Kanan dropped to a crumpled heap onto the ground as she released him. Ezra was trembling all over, breathing hard, and he was crying again as the Sith turned to look at him. From this close Ezra could see her now even in the shadows. She was surprised, and then she smiled with all the fondness he remembered. She had aged, her face was lined in a way it hadn't been before, and there were new scars etched into one of her cheeks and across her nose. The scars continued over her forehead, but the head wrap she wore under the hood hid the full extent of that damage from view.

 

Mira Bridger smiled at her son and she turned back to Ezra to embrace him. Ezra could feel Kanan watching him but he couldn't bear to see his teacher's face. He turned towards his mother, hid his eyes against the black cloak, and held her as well as he could with the metal imbedded in one arm and holding his lightsaber with the other.

 

"Please, mom, don't hurt him..." Ezra said it quietly but he couldn't shake the feeling that everyone could hear him, enemies and friends alike. Mira touched over his hair, stroking gently, the way she would when Ezra had come home with bruises and stories of being bullied or injured in the streets. _Stormtroopers did that to me. The Empire did that to me. Why can't she remember that? Why would she do this?_

 

"You're so powerful, Ezra," Mira said gently, fondly. Ezra didn't have the rush of pride he would feel when Kanan would tell him something like that. No, this felt like she was simply stating a fact. If he was as strong as his mother he would be terrifying one day. "It scares people, doesn't it? It scares the Inquisitor. It scares people who aren't as strong as you. Is your Master afraid of you too, I wonder..."

 

Ezra shook his head against her, but he couldn't bring himself to speak or look at Kanan.

 

"The Light in you is so bright. It's like a sun, burning so intensely it makes so many others around you pale in comparison. But suns burn out, suns die. Even the brightest ones die. I see that now," Mira was stroking Ezra's hair still. Her voice was soothing, familiar, and he wanted to believe her. He wanted to just believe her the way he did when he was small, that she was always right, that she was going to make everything better.

 

"The only thing that exists forever is the Darkness," Mira smiled as she spoke and Ezra could hear it in her voice. "I want you to be eternal, Ezra. Like me. I want you to be by my side, in the Dark, forever."

 

Ezra wanted to accept. He felt weak for it, but he wanted so much to agree and go with her. He hadn't seen his mother in so long, he had never felt this tired and weak. He felt like there was too much of everything inside of him, too many feelings, too many thoughts, too much to worry about and be responsible for and care about. What she offered him was none of that. Nothing to care about. Nothing to worry about. He could be with her again and never have to worry about food or shelter or people or...

 

"Ezra," Kanan's voice was strained from pain. Ezra didn't want to but he had to look up, he had to look away from black cloth and to him. He expected Kanan to be angry. He expected him to be furious at Ezra's weakness. But he wasn't. Kanan simply looked worried and a little scared, curled up and holding himself to try to ease the pain Mira had put him through. The feeling that there was too much inside of Ezra grew and he looked away again.

 

"It will be alright," Mira said gently as she kissed the top of Ezra's head. Her son shuddered as a silent sob racked through him. He moved to hold her closer, clinging tight, the pain in his arm forgotten for the moment.

 

"No," Ezra whimpered. "It won't."

 

His grip tightened on his lightsaber and there was a sudden flare of pain in his cheek. Mira tensed and let out a strained, gurgled sound as the blade ran through her chest and grazed against her son's face. Her fingers curled in Ezra's hair tightly, nearly yanking it out, but too soon her grip was weak and her body sagged. As soon as his mother's weight was entirely on Ezra the blue blade was gone and he tossed the weapon away. Mira crumpled to the ground and Ezra had to look at what he'd done. He couldn't stand it. He fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands, he didn't try to hide the noise as he cried. He curled over her, held her, begged his mother to forgive him. No answer came.  

 

There were footsteps coming towards then and Ezra closed his eyes tight. _Let it be the Inquisitor_ , he thought. _Let him kill me._

 

A warm hand touched the back of his neck and darkness fell over him.

 

\- - -

 

It was weeks after when Kanan was standing outside of Ezra's room with everything to tell him and nothing to say. For the first few days they had tried to act like everything was alright, but Ezra responded badly to it and instead of going back to his normal routines he stayed in his room for longer and longer. Eventually he stopped coming out to eat. Zeb brought him food for a while, but after a while it was obvious that Ezra wasn't eating any of it and it was getting hard to justify wasting a meal every day. A little after that Zeb had changed rooms and was temporarily staying with Sabine. Ezra was alone, and while Kanan knew that was what he wanted it wasn't good for him.

 

Kanan raised his hand, held it there for a moment, and then dropped it again.

 

There wasn't anything that could give Ezra encouragement. Kanan couldn't tell him that he had managed to take down an immensely powerful user of the Force, because he hadn't. Ardor, formerly Mira Bridger, was still alive. Horribly injured, but alive. Kanan had put his focus on getting Ezra away from what he thought was the body of the boy's mother, and while he had taken the time to collect Ezra's lightsaber he had left the Inquisitor alive. The Inquisitor had done the same as Kanan and got help for Ardor instead of going back to battle. Not that the battle lasted much longer after that, from a the few transmissions they had intercepted it seemed that Ardor had been sent to help finish the fighting. With her and the Inquisitor both injured it was worth more to retreat, heal, and fight again another day. Kanan wasn't sure if telling Ezra his mother was still alive would be comforting or not. She was still powerful, and now she knew her son wasn't still loyal to her. What that might mean in the future Kanan didn't know, and part of him wanted to never have to find out.

 

He looked down to the ground and turned. One more day, maybe. One more day might make this easier...

 

"Why did she do it...?"

 

Kanan froze and looked back. Lost in his own thoughts he hadn't heard the door open behind him. Ezra was standing there and looking as though for those last weeks he had still been fighting. He was thinner and his hair was filthy. He hadn't changed out of his clothes or bathed. There were dark circles around his eyes because what sleep he did get was short-lived. The wound on his cheek, something that should have nearly been healed by then, was still red and scabbed over. Ezra had, in an effort to cleanse himself of what he had done, tried to purge himself of the Force. He couldn't, though. The only thing available to him was to try to not only close himself out from it, but try to undo any good thing the power might have done for him. When the wound healed too quickly he ripped it back open. When the universe tried to remind him that he wasn't alone he shoved his head under his pillow and screamed until his head was empty. While Zeb had enough tact to say he had moved out to give the kid privacy it wasn't a secret that the Lasat hadn't had a full night's sleep before that since the battle.

 

"My mom wasn't evil."

 

Kanan went to him and Ezra pulled back. It wasn't until after the Jedi closed the door behind him that Kanan realized that Ezra hadn't been moving aside to let him in. He had been shrinking back from Kanan and now that the boy was in his room alone with his Master he wrapped his arms around himself like it would offer him some protection. Kanan nearly left when he realized it, but he pushed on and sat on the edge of Zeb's bed instead.

 

"I don't know why," Kanan admitted quietly. "But I don't think she ever meant to do anything wrong."

 

"How can you say that? She hurt you, she's with the Empire, but she... she..." Ezra whimpered and moved his hands up to bury in his hair as if trying to shield himself from something.

 

"Because you did the same thing once," Kanan said. As soon as it was out he knew it wasn't what Ezra wanted to hear. Ezra was trembling and Kanan could hear him trying to suppress a sob. Kanan reached up, and as gently as he could, pulled Ezra to sit beside him. The boy curled up with his knees tucked up to hide his face against them.

 

"You wanted to protect me, do you remember?" Kanan asked gently, and when Ezra didn't make any acknowledgement he pressed on. "And you became vulnerable. It isn't just fear or hatred that can make a person vulnerable. It can be anything. It can be wanting to protect someone. It can even be love. And, if that happens to someone and if they keep coming back to it because of the power, it can corrupt them."

 

Ezra hiccupped beside him and Kanan carefully put a hand on his back. He could feel the boy trembling.

 

"Your mother is still alive," Kanan said softly. Ezra froze under his hand and he looked up at Kanan, blue eyes wide and wet and hopeful. "And... if it's love that made her do what she's doing, she might not be corrupted forever. We can save her."

 

For the first time in weeks Ezra smiled. He uncurled just enough to throw himself on to Kanan and cling to him tightly, his face pressed against his Master's green tunic as he finally let himself get out the grief that had been weighing on him.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [For Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3253709) by [DuaeCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuaeCat/pseuds/DuaeCat)




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